Lucy sighed, watching him flip through her journal.
He would soon know about the pecan pie, too, because she’d finally admitted to it in writing. Oh hell.
Theo made a noncommittal “hmmm” sound and glanced up at her, his little gold earring glittering in the overhead lights of the cardio studio. He held her gaze for a second, his smile soft and thoughtful. “That’s one whopper of a slip, Cunningham.”
“Look. I’m fully aware that pecan pie isn’t on my nutrition plan.”
He said nothing but returned the journal to her bag, then leaned against the treadmill, long and relaxed, and looked at her.
“I know I’m supposed to stay away from refined sugar and white flour.”
He nodded.
Theo’s nonchalance pissed her off. Why didn’t he just come out and yell at her? “And the last time I looked, a thousand calories worth of corn syrup and pie crust fit both those categories rather nicely.”
“Probably does.”
“Aren’t you going to say something?”
“Any whipped cream?”
“No.”;
“I don’t like whipped cream on mine, either.”
A sudden change in treadmill speed nearly made Lucy trip. She had to push herself to keep up the pace. Her lungs began to pump.
“That’s it?” she cried, breathing hard. “That’s all you have to say about the pie?”
Theo shrugged. “The world didn’t end, right?”
“Of course not.” She tried to scowl at him, but her facial muscles wouldn’t comply. She felt too warm and relaxed this morning, her body loosening and swaying to the steady beat of her feet on the wide rubber belt. She could feel the blood moving through her veins. She was starting to sweat, in earnest. She felt proud and happy and, she realized with a jolt of awareness, a whopping twenty-two pounds lighter.